


The Great Escape

by mrua7



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Friendship, Gen, Partnership, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 00:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Summary: Solo and Kuryakin find themselves at the wrong place at the wrong time on Fifth Ave. in New York City on a brisk day in February.





	

February 7, 1964, Pan Am Yankee Clipper flight 101 from London Heathrow lands at New York’s Kennedy Airport–and “Beatlemania” arrived. It was the first visit to the United States by the Beatles; they'd just scored their first No. 1 U.S. hit six days before with “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” At Kennedy, they were greeted by 3,000 screaming fans who caused a near riot when the boys stepped off their plane and onto American soil.  
  
So I'm reposting this story in honor of this anniversary.  
  
  
THE GREAT ESCAPE   
  


Napoleon and Illya were walking along Fifth Ave. in New York city. It was a brisk February day, just the beginning of the month.  Most of the other people around them were going on about their business; keeping their heads down, holding their jackets closed and their scarves around their faces.

Suddenly there was an uproar and four young men, dressed in matching mod suits were running behind the two agents; pushing their way past them and one of them knocking Illya to the ground.

Farther back on the sidewalk there was the growing sound of screaming voices, and as they came closer, it was clear that the noise was coming from hundreds of teenage girls howling at the top of their lungs. “We love you Paul! John please, I love you! George oh George wait for me. Ringoooooo! “They began chanting, “We love you, Beatles! We really do.

We're blue when you’re not with us!Oh, Beatles, we love you !

Napoleon grabbed his partner by the arm, pulling him up from the sidewalk lest he be trampled by this female rampage.

“Look at that guy, he’s gotta be one of them! Yeah he must be a blond Beatle...maybe he’s Pete Best?”

They charged after the Russian, grabbing at his clothing, ripping his sleeves and nearly strangling him as one of them got hold of his tie.

Napoleon helped fight off them off; these girls surely under the influence of some drug that a mad scientist had used on them...no doubt another evil plot by THRUSH to dominate the world.

There was no place to escape but a nearby department store, but these crazed females followed the agents like a band of focused hounds, determined to run down their quarry.

The men wove through rolling racks of clothing, pulling some of them down and tossing it all to the floor in hopes of slowing down their pursuers.

Finally when they thought they’d lost them, Napoleon and Illya made a beeline for the nearest door, what they thought was an emergency exit (since they hadn’t bothered to look in their haste) was in fact the entrance to a mens room.

They were trapped.

Leaning their backs against the door for a second, catching their breath; Napoleon turned the lock with a click and uttered a silent prayer it would hold against the onslaught that might come.

“Tovarisch,” he snickered,”bet you wish you were back in the U.S.S.R. don’t you...hey you’re bleeding,” Solo handed his partner his handkerchief to staunch the blood from a cut on the side of his head. Most likely he injured himself when he hit the sidewalk.

"Don’t they know I’m an innocent bystander in all this?  And who are these Beatle characters they are were chasing...obviously it was a case of mistaken identity.”*

“That or it's a THRUSH plot chum. Let’s see if there’s a window we can use to get out of this dump.”

They walked to the back of the bathroom, and surprisingly found four mop-haired young men cowering in the back.”

“The Beatles I presume?”Napoleon asked.

“Right mate,” I’m Paul and these lads here are John, George and Ringo. How did you get mixed up in all this?”

“Someone mistook me for one of you, calling me Pete Best? Who ever he is,” Illya said, still holding the handkerchief on his head.

“Well look at your hair,” George laughed, “You look like a fifth Beatle all right. And those crazy birds will go after anyone or anything they think has something to do with us.”

“See!”Napoleon announced,” I told you it was THRUSH. How long have our feathered friends been after you? Is it part of their plot for world domination?”

“World domination ?” John looked perplexed, “This is all a bit of a rush but no man we just want peace...you know to give it a chance. I think you have our fans mixed up with someone or something else. Yes they’re a bunch of wild birds, but that’s what our music does to them. It frees them up, you know.”

Illya shook his head in dismay. “Yes if you do not mind being ripped limb from limb or being hugged to death. I have faced master spies and megalomaniacs who do not hold a candle to these so called ‘birds.’

“Hey man try dealing with them eight days a week,”Paul laughed.

“It’s a rock and roll revolution, you dig? John joined in the laughter.

“I don’t want to spoil the party but enough talk for now,” Napoleon interrupted, having just looked out the bathroom window.“I say we get out of this place and to somewhere more defensible. The window leads out to an alley with a loading dock and I see a delivery truck there. We can commandeer it and we can escape  anonymously. So what do you say ‘lads’...you want to get out of here?”

The Beatles looked at each other, nodding in unison. Napoleon was given a leg up to climb out to the alley, as it was but a short drop to the ground.  A minute later there was the roar of an engine, and the truck pulled up next to the window.

“Just act naturally, as if you are supposed to be getting on the truck. Do not call any undue attention to yourselves otherwise you will have to run for your lives,” Illya cautioned.

One by one John, Paul, George and Ringo climbed out and into the back of the vehicle. Illya was last, needing no help to shimmy up and out. He tossed the handkerchief to the ground as his head wound had stopped bleeding and climbed on board the the back of the truck with the others.

Paul stuck his head out calling to Solo, “Hey, baby you can drive my...truck any day! Woo hoo…”John joined in as well, “We’ve got a ticket to ride now!” They laughed, disappearing inside as they pulled out of the alley and on onto the street, bypassing the throngs of girls milling about.

Illya sat with his arms crossed in front of his chest, obviously still in a snit and would be glad to part ways with these fellows so he could get back to the peace of headquarters; this day had not been exactly what he’d expected it to be.

A simple trip out for lunch...which he never got, turned into this chaos, but then again that was a typical day, Kuryakin reminded himself with a snicker.

   
  
  
* David McCallum’s words from an interview after being assaulted by adoring fans at one of his public appearances. He had to hide in a ladies room to escape until the police rescued him.  He was also referred to in his MFU days as 'the fifth Beatle'.


End file.
